


Maybe the fire alarm is broken

by HeyShakeALeg



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cigarettes, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mmmm, Other, Self Harm, Smoking, i'll add more tags if needed, ok, this is pretty heckin sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyShakeALeg/pseuds/HeyShakeALeg
Summary: Kinda a vent thing don't worry about itGasters kinda okay a little bit not





	Maybe the fire alarm is broken

Gaster walked into his apartment. He closed and locked his door. The sound of the metal of his key was off. Almost dulled, like someone had put clothes over his ears.

Gaster walked into his old dusty apartment alone, and sat on the floor with his back against the front door. His body unwilling to make the effort to take a few more steps forward. The cement floor felt colder than usual, and when Gaster pressed his finger tips to it, it took a moment to adjust. It always took a few moments to adjust, didn’t it?

“How particular.” Gaster stared at the grey stone through the holes in his palms as he muttered to himself.

How pathetic, really. Gaster sat there for who knows how long before he found himself looking around his apartment for his cigarettes. He barely remembered getting up and suddenly he was rummaging around behind his desk for a pack that he must have forgotten to throw out earlier.

Sans said they were bad for his lungs, and well, Gaster knew that before but the skeleton looked so disappointed that Gaster threw out every pack he could find in the place.

Save for the one Gaster found tucked away under a pile of papers. They were old like everything else in that flat and half the pack was missing but they would do.

Gaster sat himself in his desk, upper body leaning over the abandoned paperwork in front of him, head down. The motion of tapping a cigar out of the paper box was mindless and Gaster summoned a flame to light it with ease. 

He paused before breathing in a long drag of the stale tasting smoke. Soon smoke filled the small office. Right he forgot to open a window. Gaster glanced at one in front of his before he put out the bud of what was left of the cigarette on his desk. It left a black, round circle there, as if someone had just split ink on the glossy wood. This was permanent, however. Gaster lit another one and watched as more smoke drifted up to the ceiling from his mouth. He put that one out in the same manner as the last.

He did that again. There were now three marks on the table.

Again. Four ugly black dots on the table.

Again. What would someone think, seeing five circular burns on his desk? Maybe they'd think it was some sort of incident that happened with his magic.

Again. They looked terrible there. Six of them scattered around.

Again.

And suddenly he felt his senses clear. His eyes were focused on the cigarette bud, being smothered out on his forearm. The hot embers burning a black circle into his skin. Then the burning clarity disappeared as Gaster took the ashen bud off his arm and threw away and suddenly Gaster's work desk was spared the damage.

Gaster didn't feel much as he did that again, pressing onto his arm harder this time with another bud.

He quickly- eagerly reached for another cigarette to light, but found the box was empty.

The air around Gaster was stale with smoke and dust and he was alone in his apartment, thankful the smoke alarm hadn't gone off.


End file.
